Moonlit Silhouettes
by Jenna822
Summary: *Short Story* ...because the moon will never tell your secrets... *Salazar/MaleOC* Cᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ.
1. Part One

**Part One: Eadie**

Salazar Slytherin felt ill. Three days he had been holed up inside that carriage; the busted wheel on one side made the vessel rock steadily, giving his stomach a turn; the rhythmic _clomp clomp clomp_ of hooves against beaten roads drove spikes into his head, making it ache something awful. He kept his suffering to himself after the first day of the journey. _It will all be worth it when we arrive_, his father had promised him. And Salazar would never doubt his father's word. The elder Slytherin had raised his son alone for sixteen years, the boy's mother having been taken from them upon childbirth. Not once had Salazar's father led him astray or failed to make good on a promise. So when the man came home from market one late September day, declaring that he'd found a way to bring grandeur to the Slytherin name, Salazar's faith in him did not falter in the slightest.

And so there they were, nearly six months later, making the lengthy trip across the base of England in search of their promised fortune. A girl, it was, one for Salazar to marry and with the union of their powerful families, money and station would walk hand-in-hand with the Slytherin name. Salazar had been shocked and excited at the news. Families with pure magical blood flowing through their veins were few and far between, and the families that did possess such gifts were shrouded in secrecy. He never asked his father how he came to find the other family, he simply expressed his gratitude for it.

"You look a fright. Do clean yourself up a bit before our arrival."

Salazar jumped at the sound of his father's voice. The young boy tore his grey eyes from the sprawling countryside and put his hands to his head. His shaggy black hair was a mess of tangles and sticking up in the back. He tried his best to comb through the hopeless locks, but each time his hand passed through, it only seemed to worsen the situation. "A bath perhaps...?"

"We have not the time for such things. It's near nightfall already. We are meant to arrive before the sun fades and I will not go back on my word. You will have to do for now. Come morning's light, you will make yourself twice as acceptable." The elder Slytherin gazed down upon his son with a stern, but loving, look in his eyes. His strong features held a dedicated resolve, honed over his many years. It swelled his heart with pride to see such traits being mirrored in his son's features. "Fret not."

"Yes, father." However, Salazar did continue to fret, tugging at his hair and clothing until the carriage slowed its pace and came to a smooth halt. The boy was unsteady on his feet as he exited the vessel and peered up at the sight before him.

It was like nothing he had ever laid eyes upon before. The home that laid before him was massive, stretching out on each side of a large doorway. The stones that covered the face of the manor all glittered with traces of gold embedded in an earthy red and the young Slytherin was certain the precious stone was real. The doors looked heavy and groaned as they slowly began to part. Salazar looked back to his father with wide eyes. "It is breathtaking."

"That it is," the man agreed as he plunged his hand into a leather pouch and produced several large chunks of raw, bloody meat. He moved to the front of the carriage and held out the kill in offering to creatures only he could see.

Salazar disliked what his father called "Thestrals". He did not like that he could not see the creatures and when he had learned the reason it made him sick to think on. His father had only witnessed one death in all his years, one that Salazar would never forgive himself for. The man had never blamed his son. _Sometimes the world takes the ones we love_, his father had told him, but it would never change how Salazar felt about his mother's death. When the meat vanished from his father's hands, he grimaced and turned his eyes to the ground. He didn't watch as the man began speaking softly to the creature and unharnessing it from their carriage.

"My oh my. Is this him?" A lovely woman, with dark curls down to her middle and eyes full of blue, was the first to emerge from the elegant doorway. Her hands picked up the hems of her large dress and she made her way quickly to where Salazar stood. She beamed a smile down at the young one and laid her thin fingers upon his cheeks. "So thin, he is. A few good meals will get him looking ravishing. Of that, I am sure."

"Armigil, turn loose of the boy before you give him a fright." A towering man stepped out of the manor behind the woman and pulled her hands from Salazar's face. The man was intimidating in appearance, from his dark eyes to his strong build to his pristine clothing. It was almost as if the fabric did not dare wrinkle in fear of angering him.

"I just wanted a proper look at him," the woman whispered, but she did as her husband instructed and backed away from Salazar. She flitted off behind the boy to greet the elder Slytherin and recoiled in disgust at the sight of his hands. "Is that blood?"

"From the skinned fox, yes. Thestrals prefer it fresh, but they never turn down a good kill." The man made quick work of cleansing his hands before greeting both of the adults who had joined them. "Ah, Lord Vauville," he called out politely, his hand extending towards the large man. "I have been looking forward to making your acquaintance for some time now."

The other man returned the formalities and gestured towards the house. "Eadie, come out here. I know you to be lurking just inside the door." His lips parted into a brilliant smile that shattered his entire facade of being a stern man. "Come now." He waved his hand, his voice gentle and coaxing.

Salazar's mouth dropped open at the vision that emerged from the manor doors. It was a young girl, sixteen he presumed, with long golden curls that reflected the dying sunlight. Her face was gentle and delicate; her lips, thin and rose red, were curled into a mischievous smile. Every step she took nearer to the stunned boy made his heart race faster. Though she was more gliding than walking, even her hair remained steady as she moved to stand in front of Salazar. The girl's pale blue eyes moved up and down the young boy, taking him in like one would survey their choice for dinner.

A small hum breached the girl's lips as she began to make her way around Salazar's body, examining him on all sides. As she reached his front once more, her eyes met his and she tilted her head to the side. "I say, he will do quite nicely." She offered the boy one flicker of an adoring smile before swiftly turning her back on him. "He needs a bath," she added before taking her leave of the others.

Salazar was still gawking when Eadie's form vanished inside the manor once more. "Was...was that...her?" He looked to his father with eyes screaming for a _yes_. When he received a tiny nod in answer, the young Slytherin let out a guffaw. "She is lovely!"

"A vision, just as her mother is." Lord Vauville placed his hand upon his wife's arm and looked back to their home. "And powerful. Her gift does rival that of any I have ever seen." The proud parents shared a moment of silence before the man spoke up once more. "Leave the..._creature_ -" his tone held a hanging question, his dark eyes attempted to focus on where the Thestral could possibly be "- and your trunks to our attendant. We shall dine and settle in for the night. There is much to discuss."

The elder Slytherin's face showed that he did not like the idea of leaving his meager possessions in the care of a stranger, but he made no argument. The man put his hand on his son's shoulder and together they followed the Vauvilles into their stunning home. The face of the manor was nothing compared to the inside, the floors were laid with stones that Salazar had never laid eyes upon before. The candlestick holders were coated in gold and the utensils were as well. The boy eyed his dinner fork with envy; even one piece of their flatware would be able to feed him and his father for a week. But such things did not mattered any longer. The Vauville fortune and station would soon lift up the Slytherins to be a name that the world envied.

The dinner conversation was dull and Salazar made no effort to listen to the adults speak of travel, Alchemy, and politics. He exchanged several glances across the table with Eadie, but the girl seemed to be avoiding his eyes for the most part. Was this what his father called _coy_? Was it meant to be endearing? Salazar was finding it nothing but exhausting and by the time pudding arrived, he had given up trying to capture the blonde's full attention.

A servant girl drew the young boy's wandering eyes as she flitted past the doorway holding a golden serving tray. He found it odd. Salazar had spent time inside manors, as a stable hand, and never before had he seen a servant girl being allowed to remove dinner plates from the kitchen or dining room. The boy pressed his lips tightly together and tried to push the scene from his mind. It was not his business.

And forget about it, he did, until the following morning when the same servant girl once again caught his attention after breakfast. She was carrying the golden serving tray, same as the night before, and humming to herself easily. She seemed far too sure in herself to be a thief, which piqued Salazar's curiosity. The young boy kept his footsteps light as he trailed the servant up the massive black staircase and down several hallways. The further they went, the colder the air became, like all the heating charms around the home had given up their attempts of warmth. Salazar kept himself hidden around a corner, watching. The servant girl pushed into a room and emerged only a few moments later, relieved of her tray. The boy swallowed his questions and dashed off before she could catch him following her.

"Sneaking about, are you?"

Salazar's heart jumped into his throat when Eadie caught him off guard. "I was not sneaking. I was merely exploring." He tugged at the ends of his hair and puffed himself up to full height.

"We do not come to this part of the house." The young girl's pale blue eyes fell to the floor where a heavy chalked line rested over the cold black stone. Her feet did not dare cross over the enigmatic threshold. Her fingers curled around Salazar's upper arm and pulled him back to _safety_ before her lips returned to a smile. "Father says we are going into the village today. You will simply love the market. 'Tis full of _common_ people but the trinkets they manage to create are worth the suffering." As she spoke, her fingertips danced across a heavy, emerald broach affixed to the bust of her dress.

"T-trinkets?" Salazar's eyes lingered on the broach's position a bit longer than needed before pulling his gaze back to the girl's. She did not seem offended by his improper staring, in fact her eyes almost looked victorious. "That is a lovely colour," he attempted to salvage.

"Is it not? They are my favourite. Mother says a proper lady should fancy diamonds but something about emeralds makes them so...magical, I do think." She waved her hand to dismiss any further talk on the matter before looping her arm through Salazar's. "I was right in thinking you would be handsome once cleaned up. I do hope you were not offended, I simply believe that one should find an equal of themselves in their partner."

"No equal exists that could match your beauty, Miss Vauville."

"You will do." The girl passed her fingers through her curls and began to lead Salazar back towards the front of the manor. "And you should call me Eadie. We are to be married after all."

"Of course..._Eadie_." The boy allowed her name to roll around on his tongue and found it enjoyable.

"To the market then, _Salazar_."

Salazar was not sure what to make of his bride-to-be. By the time they returned from the market he was both perplexed and entranced by the girl. He had never heard someone speak of the non-magic folk in such a harsh, condescending manner before. His father had always told him that Muggles were to be pitied and taken mercy upon, but Eadie had very different ideals. She spoke of dominance and proper place beneath the feet of those who were _worthy_. Yet, she held a kindness and warmth that reminded him of the nursing maid he had as a child. She bought several bouquets of lilies and passed them around to each little girl she crossed in the market; she tossed spare tender into the cups of beggars; she did not attempt to haggle with merchants on their prices, even when Salazar thought them to be high.

When he questioned her odd behaviour, the girl simply replied that _tyrants had no head in which to wear a crown_. Salazar did not understand but he was not going to allow her to sense weakness in his character or intelligence, so he agreed and the two spoke of other matters. Salazar Slytherin was not an educated boy but he was no a fool either. And yet, some things which Eadie discussed spun his mind. She spoke of the stars and of legends and spells that he'd never imagined. She spoke of potions and plants and healing powers. And most brazenly of all, she spoke of the future in a way that Salazar had never heard a woman do. The idea that the sexes should be equal under law and respect, it was unheard of. The idea that even the poorest citizen in the country should receive a proper education, such things were simply not conceivable to his downtrodden spirit.

But her words did sound so enticing. And spilling from between such mesmerizing lips, Salazar could not help but be drawn in. It was a shame when he had to bid her goodnight and retreat to his chambers alone for the evening. He could have listened to her speak for days. To keep up his spirits, the boy reminded himself that she was, after all, to be his wife in no more than a year. After a quick trip by the kitchens to have a drink of water, Salazar made his way upstairs.

Now Salazar had been raised by a poor father, but the Slytherins did not possess poor manners. The boy had been taught his proper place and he very well knew that snooping and sneaking and scheming were unsavory characteristics to take own of. And yet, he could not keep his racing mind at bay when he passed the off-limits hallway. The boy stopped at the corner: to turn right, he would be safely taken to his own chambers, to turn left, he would find himself back at the mysterious line in which Eadie warned him of crossing. It did not matter that he knew better, the young boy turned left and hurried back down to the invisible barrier. His toes paused at the line, but only for a moment before dashing passed it. He couldn't explain it to himself, and he certainly couldn't justify his actions, but something was pulling him down that hallway.

The sound of a creaking door made Salazar's blood run cold. He looked both ways and extinguished the tiny light on the end of his wand before hugging against the wall as close as possible. A beam of light streaked into the hallway from the very last door. It was the same door he'd seen the servant girl enter with her tray that very morning. The boy's heart raced as Lady Vauville stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind her, bathing the hall in complete darkness. He watched with wide eyes, knowing that at any moment, she'd flare up her wand-light and he'd be exposed as a sneak and snoop. The boy held his breath, his bottom lip held so tight between his teeth he could taste blood. He begged for his heart to stop beating before the woman overheard him.

And he waited for the light. He waited for his doom. But it never came. Lady Vauville shuffled softly down the hallway, her body moving slowly if her footsteps were truth-telling. She never lit her wand. She maneuvered her way through the pitch black and slipped off out of hearing range. Salazar waited for what passed as an hour in his mind, while only taking a fraction of it in reality. His body relaxed and he lit up his wand once more, using the miniscule light to guide himself to the doorway.

The young Slytherin's hand crept closer to the door handle; his fingers curled around the icy gold; his heart stopped as he gave the door a gentle tug and peered inside of the peculiar room. His grey eyes widened and a soft breath escaped his throat when his gaze finally fell upon the room's secret.

* * *

**A Note From the Author: Thank you for reading! This is part one of a two part story. :) –Jenna**


	2. Part Two

**Part Two: Estmond**

At first, Salazar thought himself to be looking upon a ghost. There was a boy, sitting in the middle of a massive bed, with skin a sickly white and eyes so pale they were near translucent. His golden blonde hair shimmered under the candlelight above his bed. His features were delicate and seemed a mirror of Eadie's. He was thin, but not frail. His face turned eagerly to the door at the intrusion but his eyes looked panicked at the sight of Salazar.

And Salazar could not move. He could not tear his eyes from the boy. His mind raced with confusion, curiosity, even fear, but his mouth dried and his throat closed, leaving him unable to speak. The tiny light on the end of his wand began twitching and Salazar realized he was shaking. To protect his pride, the boy pulled his wand to his chest and took a single step into the bedroom. With the reawakening of his muscles, the young Slytherin took his chance to look away from the stranger.

He busied his grey gaze with the room. The bed was a dark wood, with thick posters bearing an intricate design that he could not make out from his distance. It was draped in several heavy purple blankets, most of them threatening to fall off the side from carelessness. The room, itself, was not large, but it was grand. The walls were covered in shining golden paper and there was a fireplace positioned just in front of the bed. The flames inside were dying, barely licking at the last of the wood with a desperate attempt at sustaining life. To one corner of the room sat a round table; there was a scattering of charcoals and paints and loose sheets of darkened paper all over the top of it. Salazar longed to see what was etched upon the papers, but he did not dare take another step.

"Who are you?" The young ghost-like boy clutched his blankets to his chest and rose to his knees. He pulled a single candle from its home above his bed and held it out towards Salazar. "Come closer."

The young Slytherin caught his breath and did just as the boy requested. His steps were slow and tentative, his body screamed for him to go back but he would not allow it. "I am Salazar." He started to raise his wand in order to bring more light to the room, but as he did, the other boy recoiled and Salazar instantly put it away. "Who are you?"

Looking rather ashamed of his reaction to Salazar's wand, the boy lowered his eyes to the bed. "I am...I am Estmond," he whispered. "You are the boy set to marry my s-sister?" He placed the candle on the table beside his bed and pushed his blankets back from his legs. "Why have you come here?"

"Your sister..." Salazar licked over his cracked lips and let the information sink into his mind before daring to speak again. "I was...I allowed my curiosity to get the best of me. This room, the servant girl, Lady Vauville: it puzzled me. I felt..._drawn_ here."

"Were you not warned?" The young boy darted his eyes towards the doorway then back to his companion. "Did they not tell you that you were not to come this way? Down this hallway? To this door? To this room? Were you not told of the danger?"

"Danger?" Salazar's heart beat a little harder. "Eadie...she told me that no one dared to cross into the hallway, but she did not say why. And the servant g-"

"The servant girl is not a magical being. She is in no danger from me." Estmond pushed a lock of fallen hair from his eyes and turned his face from Salazar. "You put your gift on the line by coming this far. You should return before it is too late."

The gray-eyed boy would not deny that Estmond's words sent a trickle of fear through his entire body. He could feel his blood begin to tingle at the threat of having his magic stripped from it. Suddenly, the room was far warmer than it had been when he entered. But his logical mind beat down his urge to flee. "I do not understand. How? How do I risk my magic just by being _here_?"

"I am ill." The words were barely audible. "My parents, both powerful. My sister...born a mere moment before I, but she...her powers are like nothing you could conjure in your wildest of daydreams. And I am not the same. My blood...it bears no gift; no magic. I am cursed to live as a lesser and such a thing should not be free to infect others."

Salazar closed his eyes and repeated the boy's words in his mind over and over. "Are you..." he took a moment to carefully consider his question "...saying that you don't have magic?" When the boy nodded he continued. "And you and Eadie are twins?" Another nod left Salazar even more confused. "But that is not...that makes no sense. Father says that magic runs in the blood. That the parents pass it to the child and...and..."

"As I said, I am ill." Estmond put his bare feet to the cold hardwood beneath him. His dressing gown fluttered around his knees as he took deliberate, heavy steps towards Salazar. His clear blue eyes passed over the other boy's face with a flicker of wonder. "You will have to forgive me. It has been years since I have been in the company of anyone with the exception of my mother and the servants. Someone my age...they do not risk it."

At the word _risk_ Salazar shook his head and took a step back from the strange boy. "Why do you keep speaking of risk and loss?"

Estmond pulled into himself and sat back down on the edge of his bed. "You should leave."

"No. Not until you explain yourself."

"My illness. It does not simply forbid me to have magic. It...it can take the magic of others."

Salazar frowned heavily and folded his arms over his chest. "That is absurd."

The other boy looked wounded. "It is true!" His voice rose and his face hardened. "With me beside her, Eadie was never able to realize her magic. Father said that when they trained in private, she could conjure and transfigure and brew better than even he. But...but when I was with her, even merely in the same room, she could do nothing. Her magic was dwindled, like my presence kept it at bay."

The young Slytherin did not know what to make of the boy's words. "But your mother..."

"She risks herself each time she visits. She does not stay long." He raised his hand to the bed post and began to trace the serpent etchings carved into the dark wood with his fingertips. "Sometimes she cries," he whispered. "She wants to be with her son, but she is...afraid. And father does not want her here." A tiny flicker of a smile flashed on the boy's face. "He betrays his own word on occasion. He brings me gifts. He does not stay long, either."

"I do not believe any of this." Salazar shook his head and turned his back on the boy. "If this were possible, I would know. My father would have told me. He would never keep something so important from me."

"_The boy is being deceived._..."

The voice was soft and made the hairs on Salazar's neck stand on end. He knew that it was not Estmond's, but there seemed no other option. The boy rounded back on the other and stared at him in confusion. "What did you just say?"

"I said nothing."

"I heard you. Or...someone."

Estmond's face fell in distress and he began looking around. "No. It is just us in here." He looked to the door fearfully.

"I heard so-" The boy's words caught in his throat when something began to move on the bed behind Estmond's body. It was the tiniest indent in the blanket that snagged his attention. And slowly, a snake began to creep onto the bed; his body stretched into the floor, his movement was fluid. He was long and pale orange with tiny, jagged, white stripes running across him. Suddenly, Salazar understood. The strange pull that he felt towards the room, the reason he couldn't put it from his mind, the longing he had to see what lay within: it was the snake calling to him. The young Slytherin extended his hand towards the creature and bit his bottom lip. "He is beautiful."

Estmond spun around, unsure of what Salazar meant, and his face lit up at the sight of the snake. "He stays below the bed when mother is here. She is frightened of him." He scooped up the snake and draped it across his lap. "But you would never hurt anyone, would you, Baudry?" He stroked the snake down the length of his body and the creature seemed to melt under his touch.

"He is fond of you." Salazar let his fingers pass over the snakes head and met its eyes.

"_The boy is being deceived_..." the creature hissed again. "_That girl_..."

Salazar swallowed a lump in his throat and focused on the creature. "_What do you mean that he is being deceived_? _By what girl_?"

Estmond pushed himself back on the bed and pulled Baudry against his chest, his eyes wide and angry. "What is wrong with you? The sounds you make are not human. Do not touch him!" He cradled his pet protectively and held his hand out towards Salazar, putting up a facsimile of a shield against him.

"I am sorry. I should have warned you." Salazar held up his hands, open palmed, a small sign of faith. "It is a gift, one that runs in my family. We can speak to snakes."

"Sp-speak to them? And they do speak back?"

Salazar nodded and put his hands out towards the bed. "_Show him you are not afraid_," he begged of the creature. Baudry slipped from his master's hands and slithered across the bed. He wound himself around Salazar's arm and crawled up the boy's body, resting around his neck. Their eyes met and Salazar gave him a nod of thanks. "Do you see?" He looked back to Estmond.

The boy dragged a shaky hand back through his hair, pulling it from his eyes. "Yes," he whispered.

"He says that you are being deceived." Salazar unwound the creature from his body and placed him back into Estmond's lap, hoping to put the boy at ease.

"I want you to leave." Estmond turned his back on Salazar and gathered up his blankets.

"But -"

"Now," the boy snapped. "Or I will scream and bring about the servants. They will pull you from here."

"Alright." Salazar hurried to the door, the threat of being called out and caught was enough to break his stubbornness. "I will be back." He tightened his jaw and threw one fleeting glance at Baudry before slipping out of the room and closing the door behind him. The moment the door clicked into place, Salazar doubled over in a gasping breath. It had been too much. Too much strange new information, too much to accept, too much challenge on his mind. His body quivered the entire way to his bedchambers and the snake's words still rang in his mind as he lay his head down to sleep.

The following morning, Salazar rushed to his father's bedchambers before the sun even peeked over the horizon. He knew that his father would already be awake. His whole life, the man had woken early to tend to their animals and ready himself for work; it was not a habit that was easily broken, despite his new life of ease. The elder Slytherin was perched at his window, watching the sky with a look of deep thought upon his features.

"Father?" Salazar laid his hand on his father's shoulder and dropped his gaze to the floor. "There is something I need to ask you." And the boy did. Without giving him reasons or details, Salazar questioned his father about the possibility of magic-less offspring coming from pure parents. The elder Slytherin had never heard of a thing directly, but he conceded that it was possible considering the opposite was as well. But the idea of a person's magic being affected by the presence of such a person...that brought a frown to the man's face. _Preposterous_. _Ridiculous_. _Highly fantastical_. He could not imagine such a thing being reality.

The man could clearly see that something was troubling his son, but he did not press for details. Salazar was grateful. His father had always shown him respect enough to manage himself without intrusion, less the boy ask for his assistance. And as much as Salazar wanted to be open with his father at the moment, he felt he was not ready. The snake's words would not leave his mind. Was it true? Was Estmond being deceived by his own sister? By _the girl_? He did not want to think of his future bride as a liar or manipulator, but the alternative was something he simply could not believe.

That night, Salazar returned to Estmond's room and he kept returning, every night, for over two weeks. Each time Salazar attempted to tell the boy that his sister was being dishonest, Estmond tossed him from the room. The boy could hardly blame him, he tried to see things from Estmond's point of view. If someone had tried to tell _him_ that his father, the one person he loved, trusted, and respected above all others, was a liar, he'd do far more than tell them to leave the room.

Estmond was able to get used to Salazar's peculiar gift rather easily, and they began forming games that Baudry could join in on. The snake was far more affectionate and cool tempered than any Salazar had ever seen before. To be fair...he'd never been around a pet snake before. He soon learned that Baudry and Estmond had come together by a miracle. When the boy was twelve years old, he had come across Baudry when the creature was under attack. Outnumbered by his opponents, the snake stood no chance. But Estmond rescued the creature, nursed him back to full health, and intended to set him free once more. Baudry had no desire to leave his savior's side. The two were inseparable ever since.

The nightly visits were something that both boys came to look forward to. Sundown was the moment that Salazar longed for each day. It was three weeks since the two's meeting when he decided that something had to be done. The boy went to his father, just before sunset. He confessed everything about Estmond: the boy's whereabouts, his powerless form, the assumption he held that he was a danger to others. The elder Slytherin was appalled at the discovery.

"Something must be done about this. The Vauvilles are not fools, they must see that they are being deceived. I will speak to Lord Vauville about this, I will explain -"

"_It is of no use..._" Both Slytherins spun around to face the doorway. The pale orange snake held their gaze as he slithered into the room and wound himself up one of the posters on the man's bed. "_Fools, they are not... She is a wicked girl... The things she can do..._"

"Explain yourself, serpent." The elder Slytherin put his arm out, blocking his son from the creature.

Salazar slapped the man's hand away and stepped around him. "He is no danger, father. This is Baudry." The boy allowed the snake to crawl onto his shoulders and nestle himself against his neck. "He is Estmond's friend." It would not have felt proper to call him a _pet_. He stopped thinking of the snake that way long ago, he was a far too intelligent creature to be reduced to property.

"_He does not have much time... He must flee..._" Baudry hissed directly into Salazar's ear, sending a shiver down the boy's spine. "_Tonight... She knows..._"

Salazar's eyes widened. "She knows? About me and...that I have been visiting him?" When the snake gave a lazy nod, his blood ran cold. "What is she going to do?"

"_It must be tonight..._" the creature repeated. He slithered down the boy's body and weaved his way back to the doorway without another word.

Salazar's eyes lingered on the space that Baudry had vanished from. "What do I do, father?"

"You...you must make this decision for yourself." The man placed a hand on his son's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "I have faith in you, my son."

The boy took a deep breath, gave his father a thankful nod, and took his leave from the room. It was a quick trip to the kitchen, just enough time to stuff some staples into a rucksack; some fruit, a few rolls, strips of salted pork, and wrapped pastries from that night's dinner. The boy cast a lightening charm upon the bag so it would not be too much of a burden to Estmond's small frame. Carefully, Salazar crept back into the forbidden hallway and slipped inside of the boy's room.

Estmond was sitting on the edge of his bed, eagerly awaiting Salazar's arrival. His face lit up into a bright smile upon seeing the boy, but his expression soon fell grave when he spotted the other boy's distress. "What is wrong?" He jumped to his feet and looked fearfully to the door.

Salazar did not answer. He darted around the room, stuffing some of Estmond's clothing into the rucksack atop the food. He plucked a pair of shoes from the very back of the boy's wardrobe and thrust them into Estmond's hands. The look on his face was clear, he did not need to give instructions. Estmond took a seat and pulled on the shoes, his eyes half fixed on Salazar. His fingers were sloppy in fastening the ties, it had been years since he had bothered with the things.

"Salazar?" the boy whispered, panic beginning to seep into him. "What is happening?"

"You are leaving. Now." Salazar grabbed the protesting boy by the hand and shoved the sack onto his shoulders. "Do not argue with me!" He wound his hands into the other boy's shirt and pulled him close. He stared hard into the boy's fearful eyes and pleaded for him to understand. "You must leave."

Estmond released a shaky breath and held his hand out towards the other boy. Salazar swallowed back a lump in his throat and clutched the boy's hand. He pulled him from the bedroom and they moved silently through the hallways of the manor. The dark-haired boy kept his hand closed tightly around Estmond's, fearing that if he let go, the boy might run back to his room. He peeked around corners and safely led them to the back door.

"Oh!" Estmond let out a sharp cry and dove to the floor. Salazar was puzzled at first, but his confusion was quickly erased. When the blonde raised to his feet once more, Baudry was wrapped around his shoulders. "I cannot leave him."

"Of course you cannot." Salazar waited for the snake's nod of approval before pulling open the back door and dragging Estmond into the night.

The two boys did not stop running until their breath failed them. Salazar dropped to his knees and held his hands over the back of his neck. He strained to regain his sense of balance and took long, steady breaths. Estmond let the bag fall from his shoulders and lowered himself onto the ground beside the other boy. He curled against Salazar's form and ducked his head. White hot tears streamed down the boy's face; they were barely visible under the light of the full moon, but Salazar put his hand to the boy's face and pulled the wet from his cheeks.

"I am afraid," Estmond confessed.

"I know. But you have Baudry to look after you. And you are still young enough to have villagers take pity upon you. But not here. You must keep going as far as you can. There is food in the bag, enough to take you days from this place without needing another soul's help. Do not stop until you have no other choice." Salazar turned to face the other boy and continued to wipe the tears from his face. He pushed the boy's golden blonde locks from his eyes and tried to offer up a comforting smile.

Estmond sniffled loudly and closed his thin fingers around Salazar's wrists. "I..." He looked away, his pale blue eyes full of fear. "Will I ever see you again?"

Salazar wanted to say yes. But if he gave the boy even one trace of hope, he would risk giving Estmond reason to return one day. It was not a gamble he was willing to take. "No. You need to forget me. You need to forget them. You need to forget this place. When you walk away from here, you are a new person. Take a new name." He laid his hands on the boy's face and forced Estmond to look into his eyes. "Give _Estmond_ to the moon and let it hold your secret forever. Never call upon it."

"But I..." The blonde's lips trembled with fresh tears and he threw his arms around Salazar's neck. He hugged his savior close and wept into his embrace until his eyes ran dry and red. "Goodbye, Salazar." The boy's words were a mere whisper as he pulled away from the other.

Salazar felt heat sting at the back of his eyes but he forced it away. "You will be alright," he assured him. "I promise." Quickly, he captured Estmond's lips in a soft kiss. It was over in an instant, but the smile it brought to the other boy's face would live in his memory long after that night faded away.

Estmond rose to his feet, gathered up the bag, lifted Baudry back onto his shoulders, and turned his back on Salazar. His steps were shaky and hesitant at first; he had to force himself to take each and every one. The young Slytherin remained on his knees, watching the blonde's form move away from him. His eyes never left Estmond.

Salazar wrapped his arms around his body and finally allowed his tears to break free when Estmond's body was no more than a moonlit silhouette in the distance.

* * *

**A Note From the Author: Thank you for reading! –Jenna**


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